


Thames' Child

by Fire_Bear



Series: Tumblr Requests [55]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, But no magic is seen, Butt Plugs, First Meetings, Handcuffs, Light Bondage, M/M, Magical Realism, PC Peter Grant Series AU, Riding, Rivers of London AU, Supernatural Being, Supernatural Elements, police officer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-18
Updated: 2017-11-18
Packaged: 2019-02-03 22:18:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12757275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fire_Bear/pseuds/Fire_Bear
Summary: PC Alfred Jones has been transferred to the Folly, where the London Met Police deal with a variety of unexplainable occurrences - or magic as people generally call it. With the Thames gods (yes, those are a thing) are having a disagreement, it's up to him and his boss, Inspector Kiku Honda to put things to rights.And that's how Alfred meets the River Ash.





	Thames' Child

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Zeplerfer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zeplerfer/gifts).



> I managed to write this before NanoWrimo started but I've only just finished reading it over since I had the time with AO3 down last night.
> 
> This is for those prompts I decided would all be... smutty.
> 
> And the Rivers of London series is the first thing I thought of when I saw the prompt "River". So I put the Hetalia characters in that universe. Normally, I would have Arthur being the equivalent of Nightingale but, for the purposes of the River request, I made him who I did instead.
> 
> Also, since Rivers of London is first person POV, I decided to write it like that, too.

Despite finding out that ghosts and magic and vampires were all real, I was still surprised when Honda drove me out of London in his Ferrari. Of course, his Ferrari California wasn't what was surprising since I'd already seen it parked at the Folly. But I hadn't been outside of London since I'd arrived several years before – or, at least, not out to some random part of the countryside. And not without using the highway- sorry, _motorway_.

Anyway, it took a few hours to get to where we were going, a lock near Tewesbury, or so I'd been told. We left early on the Friday morning, the sun barely risen. Honda had to almost drag me from my bed. I mean, if he'd left me for another hour, it'd be just like in the Academy and I'd have been up as soon as he shook me awake. Instead, he had to pull over at the nearest service station after only an hour of driving to buy me some coffee: a mocha with added shots of espresso.

It worked almost instantly and I was only halfway through drinking it when I turned to Honda to ask him some questions. "So," I began. "Is there a reason we're taking the Ferrari and not the Honda?" I gave him a cheeky grin.

Instead of protesting at my joke, Honda merely said, "I'm glad you've woken up, Alfred."

"Yeah. Thanks for the coffee."

"Of course. Now, you have some questions for me?" Honda gave me a small smile, patiently waiting for the first one.

God, it was creepy how he could do that. I mean, I know I'm kind of easy to read at times but did Honda really need to say it as if he was reading my mind? (I really, _really_ hoped he wasn't reading my mind.)

"Yeah. Remind me why we're leaving London again?"

"In order to diffuse the situation between Mother Thames and Father Thames. We're going to talk to the Old Man in order to see if he is willing to a truce."

I wondered what the 'Old Man' would be like. I'd already met Mama Thames: she was a beautiful, brown-skinned woman. In fact, she was gorgeous enough to be an Egyptian goddess. Apparently, she had jumped off of London Bridge and woken up as a River. Now, she sat in her court, fawned over by her daughters and any men she managed to charm into her service. She'd almost got me when she tried to offer me food but I'd managed to politely decline and live to tell the tale.

"Do you think he will?"

Honda pursed his lips. "Perhaps. Perhaps not. He may be willing to stop hostilities if we give him something in return. We will just have to wait and see."

"That... does not sound promising, dude. Er, sir."

An amused smile tugged at Honda's lips though he didn't take his eyes from the road. "I know," he admitted. "But I will have a better plan on how to deal with this once we've spoken with them."

"Okay dokey!" I chirped before getting on with the important job of draining my coffee cup.

It took a few more hours to get to where we were going and, in that time, I learnt a lot of things. For example, Honda did not like playing I Spy. Maybe he felt it was something far too childish for his older self, especially since this was a police matter that we were dealing with. Then I tried to quiz him on magic some more, asking him all the questions I had stored up. Mostly, I asked about the  _Genius loci_ and how they could exist. How did the actual river choose an avatar, of sorts, to act on its behalf? Was the river actually sentient, to a point? Was it kind of like the Sorting Hat, but with everyone divided based on sexes? After all, Old Thames had only sons and Mama Thames had only daughters. Why was that? And was there some way we could test how closely linked the  _Genius loci_ were with their rivers?

Unfortunately, all Honda's responses were vague or complicated. To be honest, I figured he probably didn't know himself. Which was really the problem with him – he didn't think to ask all these important questions. You can't just rock up to someone say, 'yo, magic's real and you can maybe do it' and expect them to accept it over their science. There was a lot of laws of physics being broken with every spell Honda was teaching me.

Or with the one spell he had been teaching me, since I hadn't quite gotten it under control yet.

Finally, we arrived and Honda parked the car alongside others at a restaurant which was nestled in the corner of a bend. The land dipped down to the riverbank where a few canal boats sat, brightly painted and sitting idle. Ducks swam by and a small group of people on the opposite bank were hiking past, sticks in hand and looking quite cheerful. They seemed to be entirely oblivious to the small gathering of caravans beside the boats, men and women coming and going. The smell of a barbeque reached me and I had to stop myself from licking my lips. Laughter reached me, a sweet sound, enticing...

Shaking my head slightly, I followed Honda towards the gathering, wondering how they could be associated with Old Thames. We didn't get too far, however, when Honda was stopped by one of the men. He seemed delighted to see him.

"Honda!" he cried, hurrying towards him, his arms outstretched. The man had tanned skin, unusual for this time of the year in England. His curly brown hair curved around his cheeks and his green eyes were completely lit up with happiness. For some reason, he was shirtless, showing off a serious set of abs. I kind of wanted to lick my way up them but the glaring young man just behind him stopped me.

That one had straighter hair, one curl bobbing as he huffed at the first one's antics. Arms folded over a clothed chest, he sent glowering looks at the man's back. When I took a longer look at him, I noted that the shirt he wore looked like silk, artfully opened to a certain point as if he had worked out the exact point between decency and sexiness. His shoes, I noted, should probably have been covered in mud – ruining them – but they shone as if they were freshly polished.

"Good afternoon, Antonio," Honda said in greeting, though he kept his arms to himself. "Could I ask you to direct me to the Old Man? And to keep PC Jones here company until I've finished speaking with him."

"Of course, of course!" Antonio exclaimed, excitedly. He spared me an inquisitive glance before turning to look around the large gathering. "Ah, he's in the old wood caravan again. Over there." He pointed to the one he was talking about and Honda nodded his thanks before setting off. Antonio turned to me. "Come this way – let's take a seat and have some tea." Turning, he started off in the direction of a large picnic table which no-one was sitting at.

"Um, I don't think I should," I said, cautiously. Antonio had the same air as the other Rivers I had met but I wasn't sure if he had as much power over me as the bigger ones. I probably should've asked Honda before going into this but I clearly hadn't had enough coffee.

"Ah, don't worry," Antonio said as we settled at the table, the annoyed man sitting beside him. "You will be under no obligation to me or my family – which includes Lovi here – if you take anything." He reached out to the small camping stove which had been sitting on the table and flicked it on before setting a kettle atop it. Then he bustled off to find cups from a nearby table.

I looked at Lovi while he did so. "So, uh, which River are you?"

Lovi narrowed his eyes at me.

"Oh!" Antonio had returned, smiling down at the scene. "Isn't he cute when he scowls like that?" He leaned over to press a quick kiss to Lovi's cheek which earned him a hand pushing his face away.

"Stop that," Lovi snapped, his voice laced with an accent I couldn't quite place.

"I'm Oxley," Antonio apparently answered my question. "Though I believe people are calling it Abbey now."

"Ah," I said. "And Lovi is...?"

"Don't you call me Lovi," he snapped. "It's Lovino. Lovino Vargas."

"You mean, Lovino Vargas Fernandez Carriedo Oxley, don't you?" said Antonio, cheerfully.

Rolling his eyes, Lovino folded his arms. "Whatever. Do we still have wine? I'm not drinking this stuff." He cast a disgusted look at the box of tea which Antonio had produced.

"I think there's some by Colne's- Ah! We haven't brought in the towels. Could you do that for me, Lov-?" Antonio broke off as Lovino rose from his seat and stalked off in the direction of the river. Almost apologetically, Antonio turned back to me. "Sorry. He's not keen on strangers, thinks I'll want to seduce them. And he's probably less impressed that you're a policeman."

"Police officer," I corrected before hastening to ask, "So you two are married?" It was really just to confirm my suspicions. I mean, I didn't want to look stupid, did I?

"Yes," Antonio answered. "I seduced him." He threw a wink in my direction; I was a little surprised that he hadn't tried to put a glamour on me like Mama Thames had. Thank God for my short attention span or I'd be in her court, worshipping her divine beauty. Which, let me tell you, is completely out of this world. More so with the glamour on.

I tilted my head slightly, making sure I looked interested, just in case. "So, how'd ya do that?"

"Ah, well, it was a beautiful night at the theatre when I saw him, sometime in the 19th Century. Lovi has a better grasp of which year it was. Here he comes now!" And, sure enough, the short-tempered man was stomping through the crush of caravans with a bundle of towels, some of which looked completely soaked. Catching sight of my raised eyebrows, Antonio said, "We like to go swimming when we come here. Some of us for longer than others."

"In spring?" I said, conscious of my long-sleeved top. I'd almost settled on a hoodie but Honda had scrunched up his nose at it and it had been the only thing on hand which wasn't my uniform or a heavy coat.

"Mmhmm," said Antonio. "A lot of us have races, as well. Don't we, Lovi?" he added as Lovino suddenly reappeared at his elbow.

"Whatever," Lovino said.

"I was just telling the lovely policeman here – sorry, 'police officer' – about the night we-"

"Antonio!" came a shout from towards the river. Everyone turned to look in its direction. Those closest to the source shook their heads and returned to what they were doing. I was curious so I continued to watch as a young man stalked his way towards us. He was still several feet from us when he called out to Antonio again, his voice barely containing his anger. "I've _told_ you to stop taking my towel away before I get out!"

Now that the man was closer, I took him in. My eyes were drawn to the athletic swimming trunks first, not having expected to see someone in them at this time of the year in England, of all places. Then again, the English were a bit weird so I suppose I should have expected it. They were a deep blue with swirling lines of black spreading from the man's hips all the way down to his knees. Apparently, they were doing their job at keeping everything held in place but I could tell the guy was well hung with the way my eyes were drawn to his crotch. I tried not to stare at the bulge too much and drew my gaze upwards in a hurry.

Unfortunately, the man was bare-chested and wet. His skin shone from the water which dribbled down his pale body. He was lean, in such a way that, had he been wearing clothes, I wouldn't have thought he had the muscles which were on display. They were swimmer's muscles, of course, and he didn't look like he could lift anything heavy but they cut sharp shapes down his body. I wanted to lick my way along, from the slight trail of hair I could see at the waistband of his shorts to the dip of his collarbone.

Quickly, I made sure to take in his facial appearance – I couldn't describe a man to my senior officer by telling him 'I honestly wanted to fuck him', after all. But that, too, was a mistake. His face took my breath away. There was darkened blond hair, sticking to his forehead and a general mess which seemed so natural and effortless. His nose wasn't too long and not hooked but seemed a little curved. Lips, pink and pulled into a frown, looked to me as if they would be soft to the touch. I yearned to rub my thumb along them. Dark eyebrows were furrowed and stood out against his face but it only seemed to add to his severe, distant beauty.

And then there were the eyes. Those deep, shining, green eyes. I felt drawn to them, as if they were a pool on a hot day and I had to cool off. If I asked him nicely, would he let me stare at them all day?

My pants were definitely far too tight all of a sudden.

I had to shake myself from my thoughts, in a slight panic that the man had laid a glamour on me. But he didn't so much as glance in my direction, only glared at Antonio. "Where are they?" he demanded.

"Ah, sorry, Arthur!" Antonio said, grimacing a little yet still managing to look cheerful. "I didn't realise you were still in. Lovi? Could you-?"

" _No_ , Toni," Lovino snapped. He stood and stalked off, probably to find the wine he'd failed to find on his first trip.

"Antonio..." said Arthur, his voice laced with so much warning that I could almost see the flashing danger signs above him.

"Oh, all right," Antonio said, getting to his feet, his hands raised in surrender. "I'll go find a dry towel. You keep our guest company in the meantime."

We both watched him go but I was the first to turn back to him. Did the guy ever wear an expression which wasn't a glare, I wondered. It seemed to take him a moment to register what Antonio had said before turning back to me. "Oh," he said, his cheeks reddening. "I'm sorry. Antonio always does this. I sometimes don't know why I bother taking a towel to the riverbank."

"That's fine," I said, unable to stop my eyes from skimming over Arthur's body again. "I, uh."

Seemingly amused, the corner of Arthur's mouth twitched upwards into a smirk. "Of course," he drawled, making a point to look _me_ up and down. My mouth felt dry and I was grateful that Antonio had somehow managed to make some tea. I grabbed one of the mugs and took a careful sip, hoping it would hide my definitely red cheeks.

Once I felt like I could speak, I decided to introduce myself. "I'm Alfred Jones. _PC_ Jones," I corrected, hastily.

Arthur gave me another once over before glancing around. Tilting his head to one side, he looked at me curiously. "PC Jones of the local police?" he asked.

"Oh. No. The London Met."

"Then what are you doing here, PC Jones?"

"Honda's here to speak to the Old Man," I answered.

"Ah, so you know about us, then?" Arthur inquired. When I nodded, he smiled – it was devestating. I swear, my heart stopped when I saw it. "That means I can properly introduce myself," he continued, unaware that my heart had started up again but at much too fast a pace. "I'm Arthur Kirkland and I'm the River Ash."

"Cool," I said, earnestly. "Do you meet a lot of actors, then?"

Looking mildly surprised, Arthur said, "A fair few. They usually forget about me, though, so I doubt you'd be able to find someone who could confirm that statement, Mr. Police Officer." His expression had changed as he spoke and the smirk was back in full force. It made a shudder run down my spine and I hoped I managed to hide it by taking another sip of my tea. Yeah, that was definitely far too weak...

"So..." I said, only just stopping myself from saying 'um'. "Are you married as well?"

"No," said Arthur. "I'm younger than Antonio and Lovino. I've not had enough time to seduce anyone. Though, apparently, I don't even need to try, do I?"

I panicked then. Had Arthur placed a glamour over me? Was I falling for it? But I was quick to realise that I was wrong: it didn't feel the same as Mama Thames's glamour. I couldn't feel any _vestigia_ whatsoever, save the background _vestigia_ I had already noticed upon arrival. No, Arthur was just this sexy all on his own. And he could see how much I was affected by it.

Thankfully, Antonio returned at that moment with a towel and a cheerful smile. "There you go, Arthur. Sorry again!"

Arthur snorted in clear disbelief. "You're not sorry," he said but took the towel. He immediately began to wipe at his neck, turning his head this way and that straining his muscles. "I had better leave you to it, PC Jones," he said, smirking at me again. "Maybe I'll see you again, if you ever care to visit." And he stalked off, leaving me rather aroused and with the sudden yearning to pull him into a caravan and fuck him, regardless of who would see.

"If you're still here in a little while," Antonio said, grabbing my attention once again, "you might see him." The man looked pleased with himself. "He likes to go around the fair that will be set up soon."

"I'm not sure how long I'll be staying," I murmured, though I was only partially paying him attention. All that I could think of were those green eyes and the smirks that lit them with a fire I wanted to chase...

* * *

After that, Antonio told me about how he'd seduced Lovino, an up-and-coming actor who hadn't quite got into the famous tier of acting in the 18th Century. Apparently, marrying rivers made you immortal. Unfortunately, once he'd finished his story and we'd discussed the current problem between Mama and Papa Thames, Honda turned up and dragged me back to the car. Well, not literally, but it did mean I failed to see Arthur again.

It wasn't until we'd thought up a solution and both gods of the river had agreed that I saw him.

The way we'd worked it out was to have a sort of non-hostage exchange. That way, neither of them could act against the other without a retribution against one of their own sons or daughters. Michelle had been chosen by Mama Thames and she was excited at the prospect of the adventure, especially since she'd helped me out with the Covent Garden stuff. However, Antonio was quite coy with who they were sending down, telling me it was a surprise when I'd spoken to him over the phone. Honda had raised an eyebrow at that but said that it would be fine, as long as they kept up their end of the bargain and actually sent someone down. So Michelle and me had driven up in the Ferrari, with me trying hard not to speed along the country roads with the roof down.

When we arrived at the same place we had found the Thames court before, there were caravans and tents and bunting – and Old Man Thames on his throne. He looked just as I had seen him last, when I was confronting the revenant behind the Covent Garden riot. Curly brown hair surrounded an olive face – Lovino looked a lot like him and I'd been wondering whether the Vargas family had descended from Father Thames's original lineage. He reclined in the throne in his loose shirt and tight pants, looking every inch the god, just as Mama Thames always did.

Michelle paid homage to him and I felt the _vestigia_ of the moment: the scent of apple blossom and horses, old pipes and rustic soda, the feeling of dust from a road, the sound of children laughing as they skipped and ran across an open field. It made me shudder as I stepped away from it – and almost on top of someone standing behind me. Startled, I spun around.

"Arthur!" I exclaimed when I saw who it was. This time, he wore a forest green t-shirt and a pair of black jeans. They may have been skinny jeans but I didn't dare glance down in case he caught me. I fervently hoped he couldn't see my blush.

He smirked at me. "Good afternoon, PC Jones. It's good to see you well. I heard you had a hard time of it in London recently."

"Uh, yeah. It's all cool now, though," I assured him, hoping he wouldn't object to whoever was being sent down to somewhere unsafe.

"That's good," he said, his smirk softening into a smile. It looked good on him, unfortunately: my heart did strange loop-the-loops in my chest and I had to tell myself not to breathe too deeply. "I'd rather not get roped into some sort of police work like you did with Michelle."

I frowned, confused. "Why would you get roped into something like that?"

Smile widening, Arthur said, "I'm the one."

It took a couple of seconds for that to sink in. I'm sure my blush slowly grew as it did. "O-Oh," I said.

"You have a Ferrari," Arthur said.

"Yes," I replied, barely breathing.

"I've left my bag near the boot. I'll be with you in a minute." And, with that, he stalked off to say goodbye to his family.

That allowed me several minutes by the car, trying not to completely freak out. I was just about to spend the better part of three hours driving with the most gorgeous man I had ever met. He wasn't even a man. Under no circumstances could I start anything with him. No flirting, I told myself. Do not drool. Get your dick under control. No blushing.

Everything went out the window when Arthur suddenly appeared on the other side of the car. "I'm ready," he said, a small smile on his face. I could almost imagine him telling me he was ready for something other than a car ride...

"R-Right!" I said and quickly slid into the driver's seat.

The bad thing about the Ferrari was how old it was. Pristine condition, of course, but there was no way to dock either of our phones to it. No CD player or tape player (thankfully). And, as we drove through the country, the old radio was having difficulty picking up any signals. Which meant we had to sit in silence for the entirety of the journey or start a conversation.

"So," I said, praying I wouldn't stumble over any words and trying not to glance at Arthur. It was easy to imagine that we were on a quaint trip to the countryside or returning home from one. Far too easy to think that he'd reach over and put his hand on my knee, rubbing his thumb in circles which comforted me and turned me on all at once. Biting my lip, I managed to drag my thoughts from that direction. "Is this your first time in London?"

There was a short silence which prompted me to sneak a glance in his direction. He was looking at me with an incredulous expression and I was quick to return my attention to the road. "Of course not," he said. He stopped for a moment but I waited in case there was more to his answer. "I went there with friends from uni," Arthur continued. "They wanted to see the sights one weekend and I tagged along. It'll be the first time I'll be staying there, though."

"You went to uni?" I asked, thinking of Myriam and her pride in having been at Oxford. Before I destroyed her fountain, of course. But, hey, it wasn't my fault: she was using a glamour on me! She should have just left well enough alone.

"Yeah, Oxford," Arthur replied.

"Really?" I said, wondering if it would be rude to ask whether he knew Myriam.

"Yes. What, you don't think I could get in?" Arthur sounded defensive and, thinking back to his country loving family, I thought I understood why.

"Of course not. You seem pretty smart."

"Only 'pretty smart'?" he inquired, his tone now teasing.

"I-! Er. I dunno," I said, sheepishly. I chanced another glance and found Arthur smiling at me. It still took my breath away and I had to wrench my gaze back to the road.

"I have an MSc and MPhil in Biodiversity, Conservation and Management," Arthur told me.

"Huh," I said after I'd given it a brief thought. "That makes a lot of sense."

"Mmhmm."

We drove in silence for a while, watching the hedges and fields pass by. Arthur gazed at it, almost as if he was trying to commit it all to memory. I wondered if I should say something reassuring. Maybe I could crack a joke and make him laugh.

Before I could do anything, though, he suddenly turned back to me. "Your accent's a bit funny. Which part of London do you come from?"

"Ah, it's probably 'cause I'm American," I explained.

His brow furrowed in confusion. "I thought you said you were a _London_ police officer, PC Jones."

"I am. I've got joint citizenship."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, me and my parents lived in Boston till I was thirteen. Dad works for a global bank and he got a promotion which brought him to London. All of us moved with him. Still got a bit of an accent, though."

"Yeah..." Arthur agreed, looking at me from the corner of his eye. "It sounds rather... exotic."

A shudder ran up my spine: I was unable to hide it and Arthur's subsequent smirk didn't help matters. Taking a deep breath through my nose, I hummed in agreement. "Er, anyway, do you know what you're gonna do when you get to Mama Thames's place?"

"Same as Michelle did," Arthur answered, rolling his eyes. "Then I'll probably go around town, explore a bit. Why? Are you offering to take me somewhere?"

"N-No!" I hastily said – and immediately regretted it. "I-I mean, if you-"

Arthur laughed, distracting me again. I stared at his shining eyes, his curved lips, his elegant hand trying to trap that beautiful noise. It was intoxicating. I couldn't take my eyes off him.

After I'd swerved out of the way of another vehicle, I decided not to look at him for the rest of the trip.

* * *

I dropped Arthur off but didn't stick around long after he'd paid his respects – I didn't want to accidentally find myself trapped in Mama Thames's court. So, as it was, I didn't see Arthur for two weeks after that.

One day, I was returning to the Folly after being at my parents for dinner to find Arthur loitering around the front door. He was wearing a dark blue hoodie which looked like the front door of the TARDIS, hood up and hands in pockets. His jeans were stylishly ripped, though one hole on his left knee seemed bigger than it should be. A pair of dirty, ragged, black Converse completed the look. He leaned against the wall, ankles crossed, weight held up by a force of will. Tufts of hair stuck out from under the hood, just enough to frame his beautiful face and have people sparing him second glances.

"Fairly sure you couldn't look more suspicious if you tried, Arthur," I said as I reached him.

His pretty smirk lit up his face as he peered up at me from under his hood. "I'm sure I could, PC Jones. But I wanted to talk to you."

Frowning, I glanced beyond him to the door. I could just about see the shadow of someone standing there. Presumably, Natalya was waiting to open the door for someone. Or waiting for an intruder to show her knife skills to. "Did Natalya refuse to let you in?"

Arthur sent me a puzzled look. "Who's Natalya?"

"Y'know," I said, "the maid... sort of... thing. I'm not sure what she is exactly but she cooks – kinda – and cleans."

Shaking his head, Arthur straightened up. "No. I never knocked. Myriam told me about how we can't get in there. Remember? This place is inimical to us."

"Oh! Yeah! Right. Ah..." I trailed off, wondering whether I should offer to take him elsewhere for our talk or... "Wanna come to where I stay? I sorta live above the garage. Means I get TV and Internet. And you don't needta go in there." I jerked a thumb over my shoulder at the main door.

For a second, Arthur tilted his head, clearly considering whether he should or not. Or maybe he was wondering how he could use this to his advantage. I suppose he may have been parsing my words since I'd spoken quite quickly, eager to get the hot guy into my room, essentially. Before I could lecture myself on thinking that, Arthur said, "Sure. Why not? It'll be private, right?"

"I can lock the door," I offered. "Can't guarantee that'll keep Natalya out, though. She tends to... pop up."

"That'll do."

Wondering what he wanted to talk about, I led Arthur around the massive building and down a side street. From there, it was possible to enter the garage where both the Ferrari and a small collection of other cars were kept. A staircase wound its way up the side of the building and we climbed up it to reach the door to my room. I fished out my key and unlocked it, relieved to see that Tony had evidently been taken to the kitchen by Natalya: I didn't want a yappy terrier ruining my chances before they'd even gotten to the starting blocks.

"Welcome," I said as I held the door open for Arthur, "to my Batcave."

With an amused look in my direction, Arthur stepped inside, taking it all in. A double bed was nestled in the far left corner, my sheets a mess since I hadn't made them that morning. In the other corner, was the computer where I could patch into HOLMES, the computer system of the Met. A couch faced a large, flatscreen TV, coffee table in front of it. My personal laptop was closed, the superhero stickers which adorned it vibrant against the black. (Apart from one of the Batman logo stickers which was entirely black and blended in.) Several games consoles were on the table beneath and around the TV, a multitude of cables attaching them all. Piles of Latin books, comic books, DVDs and games had been pushed against the walls, probably by Natalya since _I_ certainly hadn't done it.

"Nice," said Arthur, sounding equal parts impressed and amused.

"Right?" I said, cheerfully. I made sure to lock the door behind me before heading to the couch. Dropping onto it, I turned to Arthur with a wide grin, watching him hover. "You can come closer, you know. I don't bite."

"I do," Arthur retorted with a smug grin.

That made me gulp, arousal sweeping through me. _Crap_ , I thought. _Concentrate, Jones_. "So, uh," I said, hesitantly. "What was it you wanted to talk to me about?"

Arthur gave me a once over: it felt as if I was a prime cut of beef or a horse that he was inspecting or maybe even a new piece of technology that he was judging on its usefulness. Then, as I pursed my lips to stop from making any sort of noise, he stalked towards me, a predatory prowl which emphasised how close he was getting. It was very sensual, his hips swaying, his long legs carefully, gracefully placed. Upon reaching me, he knelt on the couch cushion at my side and loomed over me.

"I was very happy in my life upriver, PC Jones," he said, his voice low and dangerous.

"Uh," I said, trying to break his momentum, break the tension in the air. "You... You can just call me Alfred?"

He only reacted to that with a Look. I decided not to try my luck and pursed my lips again as a silent promise to keep quiet. "I was very happy," he repeated. "And now I'm stuck here, PC Jones."

"D-Don't you like London?" I asked, breaking my implied promise.

"Oh, I like London. It's been nice – so far. Parties and alcohol and people to flirt with. I even went sight-seeing again. It's very interesting what you Londoners like to do to your city." He leaned further forward, boxing me in, his eyes glinting dangerously. I may have squeaked, just a tiny bit. Only to give Arthur the illusion that he was scaring me, you understand. There was a slight possibility that he'd heard me because Arthur smirked. "But I do not appreciate being dragged away from my home."

"You, uh, can always visit. I mean, it's not too far..." I suggested but I trailed off when Arthur gave me yet another Look.

"I understand why it had to happen and I've made my peace with it," Arthur continued, though he didn't move away to let me _breathe_. "But, you know... I rather think it's _your_ fault that I'm in London now. Isn't it?"

Trying not to look too guilty or too aroused by his proximity, I said, "Er. Well. It may have been _partly_ my idea."

"Then I say that you owe me something, don't you?" Arthur said, voice sweetly wrapping me in desire, his smirk now looking quite smug.

"M-Maybe...?" I said, beginning to get worried. Mama Thames had a guy who worked for her purely because he'd had a cup of tea while he was fixing her electrics. I definitely didn't want to be stuck in Mama Thames's court if Arthur was going to say that I was obliged to. After all, I'd probably get bored having to do the same thing every day rather than getting to work as a police officer of the Met and learning magic and my family would be worried and-

"I'm not trying to trick you into anything," Arthur suddenly said, as if he could read my thoughts. Then again, maybe he could just read my emotions off my face.

"Okay...? Then what do you want from me?"

"Your cock," said Arthur, bluntly. His words had me spluttering for a second before I calmed enough to hear him continue. "You owe me something and I was hoping you were wanting to fuck me. Right?"

"I..." Shrugging, I tried to sit up straight but Arthur's hand shot out and pushed me back, palm flat on my chest, directly over my heart. "I don't get why you want to have sex with me."

"Bit of fun, really," Arthur told me. "You don't need to commit. But, God, I really want someone to fuck me."

"What about your party buddies?"

"Not as interesting as you," Arthur told me, lightly.

I eyed him, thinking. Arthur was a very, very, _very_ attractive man and I very much wanted to have sex with him. There was also... something else. Something within me was attracted to him in a different way – and it was telling me that this could very well be a bad idea. Then again, what if I said no? Would I ever be able to convince him to let me fuck him if I pushed him away now? I didn't like that possibility at all.

"Yeah?" I said.

"Yes," Arthur answered. And, before I could hesitate any further, he demonstrated exactly how interesting he found me by moving forward to kiss me. His lips were just as soft as I'd imagined as he pressed them against mine, moving slowly, waiting for me to respond. And respond I did, eagerly reciprocating. Arthur's tongue flicked out to lick against my mouth; I instinctively parted them and he pushed his tongue in. Soon, we were kissing with tongues and lips and the clacking of teeth, warm and wet and delicious. Arthur tasted of crystal clear water and champagne and tea and popcorn: he tasted like the movies.

We parted when I needed a breath, though I was sure Arthur could have kissed for longer. By that point, I was lying flat on the couch, my legs at a strange angle as they hung off it. Arthur was straddling me, his hands pressing me down into the cushion. His eyes were close, filling my vision as those glorious pools of colour drew me in. I was about ready to swear my fealty when Arthur straightened, smirking down at me.

"And I'll take that as a yes, too," he said, smugly.

Shrugging a shoulder, I said, "Sure. But... I mean, are you sure?"

"Oh, yes. But we'll do it on the bed." With that, he clambered off of me, grabbed my shirt and pulled me upright, dragging me to the bed by my collar. I stumbled after him until, halfway there, Arthur pulled me to a stop. "Clothes," he said. "Off. Now."

Doing as I was told, I grinned at him. "Someone's eager," I commented.

"So are you," he said and abandoned his own disrobing with only his socks and shoes off to dart towards me. Before I could react, he pressed a hand against the bulge in my pants. I hissed in surprise at the contact before it turned to a moan as he rubbed against it. "A-Arth..." I managed to say before he leaned up on the tips of his toes and cut me off with another deep kiss. It was accompanied by Arthur squeezing my cock through my pants and all I could do was moan, the kiss becoming more open-mouthed.

Finally, Arthur pulled away. "Hurry up," he told me with another smug smirk.

I quickened my pace but I'd only gotten my jacket, shirt and tie off by the time Arthur was entirely naked. That made me still, staring at him in awe. Apparently, he had worn no underwear and had only been wearing the hoodie. Clearly, Arthur had been completely prepared for what we were about to do.

His body was just as magnificent as the first time I'd seen him – though, unfortunately, not wet. Those muscles were still as sharp and I yearned to lick them. My eyes travelled downwards and I was able to take in Arthur's cock. It wasn't as thick as I'd expected but it was long and curved upwards. Somehow, I thought it suited him, as pretty as the rest of him.

Arthur cleared his throat and, when I managed to drag my gaze upwards, he raised an eyebrow. "Did you not hear me say 'hurry up'?"

"Uh huh," I said with a gulp as I wrestled with my belt.

When it was obvious that I was having trouble with it – damn my throbbing dick, distracting me – Arthur stepped forward with a sigh and took over. I watched him deftly unbuckle it, sliding it through the hoops and out with a snap of leather. Inhaling sharply, I willed myself to calm down. But it was hard when the sexiest being I had ever seen was in the process of pulling my pants off.

Eventually, I was naked. Arthur took me in, drinking in the muscles from my trips to the gym. His fingers trailed lightly over them, sending shivers across my body and tingling shots of arousal straight to my cock. They traced a path to my thighs, clearly admiring the muscles there from my time on the treadmill – can't chase bad guys if you don't have the right muscles built up in your legs. Then his gaze seemed to pin my cock, another full-body shiver wracking me. I hoped he thought I was big and that he was impressed.

"Well, well," Arthur said. "Look at you."

"Like what you see?" I asked, smirking. My smirk dropped when Arthur gave me an unimpressed look.

"Really?" he said. "You're going to lead with that?"

"I, er-"

"Bed," Arthur ordered and I was quick to obey, backing up as he stalked towards me. When the back of my legs hit the bed, I stopped. But Arthur kept coming and placed a hand on my chest once he'd reached me. Before I could say anything, Arthur shoved me, hard, and I ended up sprawled on my back, gazing up at him with wide eyes.

"So, uh," I said, watching as Arthur crawled on top of me, _God_ , that was sexy- "How are we gonna do this?"

He crawled along my body, barely brushing against me. Tingles ran along my entire body, making me take in a shuddering breath. Once his head was level with mine and could look me in the eye, Arthur smiled, a glint in his eyes. "I am going to ride you," he told me.

Breathless, I whispered, "Really?"

Arthur chuckled. "Why are you so surprised?"

"I, uh... With the way we're..." I gestured between us, hoping I could convey what I meant. "I thought..."

"You thought I was going to fuck you until you begged me to come inside you?" Arthur suggested.

My breath caught but I managed to say, "Yeah...?"

"No, no," Arthur assured me, dropping his head down so our noses brushed. My eyelids flickered, unsure whether to keep staring into those beautiful eyes or close them in anticipation of bliss. "I want your great, big cock," Arthur continued slowly, his breath caressing my lips, "inside me. I want _you_ to come inside me."

"Uh," I murmured, feeling my lips brush his, my eyes fully closing. "We should... y'know."

"I know?" Arthur asked before pressing his lips to mine. I barely got to reciprocate before he pulled away. "Should do what, PC Jones?"

Hearing him say my name like that made me shudder pleasantly and the sudden desire to be closer prompted me to lean up and press my lips against his in another kiss. It was another short kiss as Arthur pulled away, humming inquisitively. That forced my brain into gear once more and I was able to answer him. "Use protection."

"Hm, it's okay," Arthur told me, looking me square in the eye. He seemed amused. "I don't tend to catch diseases – and you certainly won't catch any from me, PC Jones."

"You really don't need to call me that."

"Hush, now. I expect you have lube, yes?"

I nodded, letting my hand flop over so I could point at the bedside table. "In there."

"Good," said Arthur and kissed me again. This time, he kissed me harder, deeper, tongues twining, his body shifting. Before I could wonder what he was doing, Arthur ground down against me, our cocks trapped between us. He shifted back and forth, rubbing us together; I moaned into the kiss, relishing the friction which I yearned for every time I was in his presence. Arthur smiled against my lips when I bucked up against him. We rutted together for a few moments, Arthur's kiss becoming a little more sloppy.

Finally, he pulled away, straightening. I ended up whining, though that was quickly quashed as Arthur glanced back at me, still seeming amused. Pouting, I reached for him, getting a firm grip on his hips. "Where are you going?" I demanded, mind hazy with lust.

"Not far," Arthur answered and leaned across me to open the drawer I had indicated a minute or so before. My pout lessened when I remembered that he was searching for lube, searching for a way for me to be inside him. I shuddered when I thought that and rubbed circles in Arthur's hips with my thumbs, my grip refusing to lessen, pleased with the prize I had caught. There were some noises of things moving around in the drawer before Arthur shifted, almost shuffling off me entirely. But one leg was still draped across my waist and I had to make do with that slim contact as Arthur took a better look in the drawer. There was an unwanted pause. "Oho?" said Arthur, suddenly. "What do we have here?"

"Hm?" I said, my focus entirely on Arthur's body. There was a slight rattling and Arthur twisted, his muscles working. It was an intoxicating sight, even more so when I glanced up to see what he was dangling from one finger.

"This," Arthur said, shaking his hand and making the handcuffs sway from side to side, clinking quietly.

"Uh." I grimaced. "Those... Those are actually my spare pair. I don't think-"

"Oh, come on," Arthur complained, rolling his eyes. "I mean, I need to tie you up, anyway."

"What? Why?" I asked in bewilderment.

Grinning, Arthur shifted so that he was leaning over me again. I gulped involuntarily and watched his grin widen. "I don't want you touching yourself while I'm getting ready for you."

That made sense to my lust-addled mind. "O-Oh," I breathed, trying my hardest not to let my hips move to seek the touch I desired.

"Mhmm," said Arthur and caught hold of my wrist. Before I could do or say anything, Arthur attached the handcuffs to my right wrist. Then he tugged at it, pulling my arm further up the bed. "Come here," he said, rolling off me to lead me along. "Up here."

I obeyed, happy to do as he asked. Once I was far enough up, Arthur looped the handcuffs through the bars of my headboard and cuffed the other side of it to my left wrist. Then he leaned back. I watched him go, a little dismayed that he was pulling away so far. Wanting to catch him, I pulled on the cuffs without thinking: it only confirmed that I was stuck in that position, arms stretched above me, completely naked and at Arthur's mercy. Again, I swallowed, heart pounding, yearning for a touch.

But Arthur sat at the side and rooted around in the drawer for a little longer, poking at my private things. I knew what was in there and felt myself turn red, knowing Arthur could prolong this, could torture me with his teasing slowness. Thankfully, he eventually drew out only the bottle of lube and slid the drawer closed.

Turning to me, he smiled, raking his eyes up and down my body. "You look good like that, PC Jones," he commented. "Should I take a picture? Would you like me to send you it later, so you can see how delectable you are in that position?"

A strange sound escaped me in answer, a cross between a whimper and a groan. Realising how I sounded, my eyes widened and I hastily cleared my throat. "I don't-"

"Oh, I think you do, PC Jones," Arthur said, looking awfully triumphant. "But, luckily for you, I don't want to go looking for my phone. So." He crawled over the top of me again, though he kept himself from touching me. When he reached the optimal position to lower himself onto my cock (which made it twitch with anticipation), he stopped and popped open the lube. "Are you ready, PC Jones?"

" _Yes_ ," I said, eagerly.

"Good," said Arthur as he poured the lube over his fingers. Then, without any other preamble, Arthur balanced on only his knees, reached back and pushed a finger into himself.

Both of us moaned. I couldn't see what he was doing but the thought of him sticking fingers up his ass sent tendrils of arousal straight to my dick. It twitched, still too far from Arthur to be touched. My instincts told me to do it myself but, when I tried to reach down, I remembered that I was trapped, the handcuffs digging into me. I whined at that.

"Now, now," said Arthur. "Don't be like that- ah." He bit his lip as he dug his finger deeper within himself. With his face turning a delicate shade of pink and his lashes fluttering and his cock hard and him right above me... I didn't think I'd ever seen a more erotic picture and I stifled a moan by pursing my lips.

Arthur seemed to notice, despite my efforts. "Oh?" he said. "Are you enjoying your show?"

"Yup."

"Mm. Shall I put a second finger in?"

My eyes widened. "Is... Isn't it a bit too soon?" I inquired, trying to control my breathing.

"Maybe for _you_ ," Arthur retorted and gasped as he seemingly put a second finger in. I gave up on controlling my oxygen intake: my lungs had stopped working as soon as it happened.

For what felt like forever, I watched him: watched his hand working; watched his hips moving in tiny jerks backwards; watched his face getting redder; watched the sweat dripping off him; watched his cock bobbing as he moved. My breathing was laboured. Pressure was building, my own cock aching. Metal bit into my wrists as I forgot myself and tried to move, the little spots of pain cranking up my need. My own hips also moved, trying to rub myself along Arthur's ass.

Finally, Arthur pulled his fingers out and, gasping at the loss, he slumped forward, only just catching himself with his hands on my chest. I sighed in relief: after the scene I had witnessed, I was happy to be touched at all. Arthur breathed for a moment, chest heaving, staring down at me with hazy eyes. Then he grinned and straightened up.

As he poured more lube on his hand, Arthur said, "Are you ready?"

" _Yes_ ," I insisted, gritting my teeth as he reached behind himself once again. "What're you doing? Are you just gonna fing-?" I didn't finish my question as Arthur's hand slid along my cock, spreading the lube along my entire length. Instead, I let out a croaked yell and Arthur's grin widened.

"Is this good for you?" he asked, almost simpering.

I nodded frantically. My aching length was reveling in the touch, the movement of Arthur's hand, the tightening of his grip, the friction. I was unable to stop myself from bucking upwards, blindly trying to fuck into Arthur's hand. But it was soon over before it had really begun as Arthur stopped, gripping my cock at the base. I blinked, confused, and watched as he shifted again.

"Are you ready?" he repeated, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

Again, I nodded, biting at my lip to hold back myself still. I wasn't sure how much longer I would last. After Arthur's glorious display, I was more aroused than before. That pressure had built to epic proportions. But I wanted so badly to make this good for Arthur as well so I told myself to be patient.

Then Arthur began to lower himself. Anticipation stopped my breathing. I tensed. My cock nudged between his ass cheeks, dragging along them and likely smearing the lube on his skin. I wondered what it would look like, what Arthur would taste like.

Before my mind could wander too far, the head pressed against a slight resistance. Arthur lowered himself further and the tip entered him. A tight grip squeezed around me and I gasped, feeling it drag down my cock, down, down, lower, lower. Somehow, Arthur didn't need to stop to relax and he lowered himself all the way until my entire dick was surrounded in warmth, tightness, squeezing muscles.

It took me some time to relax beneath Arthur. I wanted so desperately to move but I had no leverage and knew it. Instead, I had tensed up and Arthur, thankfully, had waited. Once he felt me relax, he stroked across my abdomen, making me whimper from the light touch.

"There, there," he said. "Would you like me to start moving, PC Jones?"

I was unable to stop myself from groaning at the way he said my name. It was both frustrating that he wouldn't just call me Alfred and strangely erotic. Gazing up at him, I could imagine him as a prisoner I had been escorting to a cell, a prisoner who had turned on me and cuffed me and... His smirk intensified that fantasy and I briefly wondered if that was the point of him calling me 'PC Jones'.

"Yes," I pleaded, when I found my voice. " _Please_ ," I added, unsure as to whether Arthur would be opposed to orders. Begging would work, I felt – I hoped.

And work it did. "You have wonderful manners, PC Jones," Arthur said – just before he braced himself with his hands and lifted himself almost completely off my cock. He left the tip in and I had just whimpered at the loss of that glorious warmth when he dropped back down. I gasped, bit off a groan and strained at the handcuffs, wishing I could hold onto Arthur, touch him, brush against his nipples, mark his beautiful body, kiss him, tongues and teeth and- Arthur lifted himself off just as slowly as before and I tensed when he got to the top, knowing what to expect. Arthur hovered for a second longer than the first time, made me think he was about to get up and leave, before he dropped down, almost harder than before.

It went on like that for hours – or maybe it was a few minutes. I lost all concept of time as I watched Arthur slowly move up and down. He surrounded my cock completely, took it all in, rocked against me when I was completely sheathed within him, groaning, head thrown back. It was mesmerising to watch and I could only groan and clutch at the headboard. I felt like I was slowly going insane: close to orgasm, the drag too slow to help, unable to touch.

And not being touched.

Desperate, I bent my knees and dug my heels into the mattress. Arthur didn't seem to feel me shifting and so, when I attempted to thrust up into him, I only succeeded in making him overbalance. He clenched around me, making me groan, and managed to keep me inside as he slapped a hand on my chest to keep himself from falling completely.

"What was that?" he growled, glaring down at me.

"I-I want," I panted – but he ground against me and I lost my train of thought.

"No, no, love," said Arthur with a rather malicious grin. "This is your punishment, remember? You don't get to want."

Groaning, I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to stop myself from bouncing him again. My hips still twitched, though, in slight increments and I had to breathe deep and tense to stop myself. The muscles in my arms were beginning to burn. "I need," I said instead, hoping he'd allow my request to be released.

"Need what, PC Jones?" he asked, a glint in his eye.

"You," I promptly answered. Arthur looked startled for a brief moment but he quickly recovered. He raised an eyebrow and I took it to be a prompting for me to continue. "I-I need to touch you. I need _you_ to touch me."

Arthur looked me over. "Do you now?" he breathed.

"Yes."

There was another moment of inaction before Arthur smiled. It was almost a smirk but his eyes seemed fonder, somehow. I was distracted from my musings, however, when Arthur began to purposefully move, though not as large in his movements as before. As he did so, he leaned forward, letting his hands slide across my chest, dragging purposefully at each defined muscle. It was intoxicating, heat spreading, shooting through me. Each drag of Arthur's body across me made my thoughts completely disintegrate, left me straining against him, searching for more, more, more...

Suddenly, Arthur's lips were at my ear. "Relax, PC Jones. You've been working very hard, haven't you? Let me do everything for you."

"I thought this was a punishment," I retorted, a little breathlessly.

Mouth twitching in amusement, Arthur said, "It's both: a punishment and a gift."

"Will I get more of these-?" I began but Arthur cut me off with a kiss.

The kiss grew deeper as Arthur moved, fucking himself on my dick. His speed picked up, his movements growing in depth, driving me in deeper. I wondered if he would start to angle himself, help me to hit his prostate. That would be a pleasant sight, I figured, and hoped he would.

Instead, Arthur drew away from my mouth to press kisses along my cheek, my chin, my jaw. He paused there to nibble at it, making me sigh happily, enjoying it. My heart still hammered, my cock throbbing with how close I was getting to my climax. Arthur's teeth dragged down under my jaw to my neck where he pressed a chaste kiss to my pulse point. He could probably feel how fast my heart was beating. Then he licked his way across before sinking his teeth in, biting and sucking.

"Ah!" I cried "A-Arthur!"

"Hm?" he hummed against my skin as he gave the bruised spot a lick.

"God, Arthur," I answered him, not really knowing what to say.

His smirk ghosted across my neck till he reached the other side. "Do you want to know what I'm doing, PC Jones?" he whispered against me. It was only just audible over the slap of his skin on mine as that heated friction continued to bring me closer and closer... The way he said my name sent a spike of arousal through me and I couldn't find it in me to answer: I gasped and groaned instead, the handcuffs digging into my wrists as I tried to hold Arthur close to me and failed. "Well?"

Since I couldn't really speak, I nodded and said, "Ar-ah!" He had interrupted me before I could finish his name as he sank his teeth into my skin again.

"I'm leaving evidence of my 'crime', PC Jones," Arthur told me before dragging his tongue across to my Adam's apple. "So you can catch me again later." And he sucked another mark there; I cried out in ecstasy, the pressure wound so tightly that I knew I wouldn't last for much longer.

"Please," I begged, barely coherent.

"Yes," Arthur breathed, agreeing with whatever I had asked. He sped up, tugging me closer to the edge. His mouth continued its path across my collarbone, leaving more and more marks. Hands brushed across my chest and around my sides until Arthur was rubbing just above my hips. The sensation made me buck my hips slightly but Arthur made no admonishments, merely meeting me with his own movements.

Everything built within me, heat and pressure. All I could see was Arthur's hair, brushing against my chin as he bit at me. Pain shot through me, running alongside pleasure, with every bite, directly to my cock. The handcuffs cut into my wrists deeper than before, the pain a sharper contrast to the carefulness of Arthur's ministrations. Heat and friction were continuously wrapped around my entire length. Slap of skin on skin. Pleasure building. Panting breaths. Murmurs of Arthur's name. My cries, Arthur's moans. A sudden movement, a kiss, tongue and teeth and lips and friction and-

Another cry, muffled by Arthur, was ripped from my throat as I came. The pleasure I felt made me buck upwards several times. I felt like I had been shot up into heaven, floating slowly back to my body. My heart was still hammering but it still took me a while to come back to my senses, to register the presence of Arthur in my lap. I was still fully sheathed within him and, with a sharp intake of breath, I remembered that I wasn't wearing a condom. As I hadn't pulled out, all my cum was trapped inside him and I wondered, briefly, if he would be angry.

Then I looked up and realised that Arthur hadn't come yet. He still sat on me, breathing heavily, his lips a little redder. His cock was bobbing slightly with each of his breaths, pre-cum still dribbling down his length. With flushed cheeks and dark eyes, he gazed down on me, clearly waiting.

"If..." I said, rather breathlessly. I swallowed and attempted to catch my breath. Once I felt I could say at least one complete sentence, I spoke again. "If you let me go, I can take care of you, too."

"I don't need to release your hands if you suck me off," Arthur said, simply.

Biting my lip at the thought, I nodded. "Yeah. Sure. But you're too far away."

"Wait a moment," murmured Arthur. I thought he was asking for patience as he gathered himself but he moved almost immediately, leaning towards the bedside table again. I frowned, confused.

"What are you doing?" I asked, my chest still heaving from our exertions.

Arthur ignored my question, opening the drawer and searching for something. Eventually, he drew back, settling more squarely on my lap; I could hear a squelching sound over my evening breathing. He held something aloft and my eyes were drawn to it.

I'm not entirely sure whether I paled or blushed at the sight of the butt plug I'd bought out of interest and never used.

Grinning at me, Arthur waved it to and fro. "I don't want to make too much of a mess," he told me, frankly. "I'm going to keep your cum inside me."

Unable to suppress a groan, I let my head fall back. My cock was taking slight interest, twitching at the mere thought of Arthur doing that. Of Arthur pulling his clothes back on, going home. Of Arthur meeting with Mama Thames and his cousins for some important meeting, my cum still inside him. Of Arthur speaking with Honda, all prim and proper but still shifting in his seat as the cum continued to squelch within him.

"PC Jones," Arthur called and I had to look up at him, drawn to him as always. He held the plug out to me, smiling, another glint in his eye.

"Y-Yes?" I asked, my voice small, watching the plug coming closer.

"Open up," Arthur ordered.

Barely hesitating, I did so, slowly parting my lips. I knew it would taste like plastic, taste disgusting. But I wanted to make Arthur happy so I let him press the plug past my lips. Licking and sucking at it, I gazed at Arthur's flushed face. It was easy to imagine what I could be doing in a few moments, what I could be tasting. So I bore with it and made sure the plug was covered in my spit before Arthur pulled it back out; a string of saliva stayed connected between my lips and the plug for a split second before breaking, making me lick my lips.

Smiling, Arthur leaned back, braced himself with one hand and slowly, carefully lifted himself off my limp cock. When only my head was in, he took a breath and, in one swift movement, he surged upwards, away from me, his other hand jolting in its sudden movement. I watched Arthur's eyes flutter as he pushed the plug inside him, twisting it to push it in further. Finally, he sighed and relaxed, bending over me.

"Got it?" I asked quietly, intent on the answer. My heart was pounding a little too quickly at just the thought of it, riling me up. I wondered if I'd get hard again and what Arthur would do to help me out.

"Got it," Arthur confirmed. He wiggled his ass a little before crawling along my body. "Slide yourself up a bit," he ordered me. "I'm not releasing you for this so you can suck me off while I'm kneeling in front of you."

That made me shudder, arousal slowly coiling within me. My body hadn't responded to it yet but I knew it was only a matter of time. When Arthur raised an eyebrow at me, I hurried to do what he said, using bent knees and digging in my heels to push myself further up the bed. Curling my fingers around the bars in the headboard, I used it to pull myself up and it wasn't long until I was sitting up. I had to do some horrible manoeuvring to get my arms around and into a comfortable position; Arthur was mostly patient, watching me as he slowly jerked himself off.

As soon as I was comfortable and had relaxed, Arthur crawled further along. Our faces got closer and closer. Before I could do more than blink languidly at him, Arthur pecked me on the lips before pushing himself upright, shuffling further forward on his knees. The kiss was both familiar and startling: it felt like we had done that a hundred times before and would do it at least a hundred times more. I was so busy thinking of it that I almost didn't see Arthur's cock in front of me.

Thankfully, Arthur's body was distractingly gorgeous and I was able to refocus on the task at hand. I licked my lips as he canted his hips forward. His tip touched my lips and I let myself brush them over it, craning my neck to press kisses along the shaft. Arthur let out a breath, almost sounding pleased with that little huff of air. Smiling, I moved back to the tip so I could lick it, being sure to press my tongue firmly against it.

Arthur moaned, his hand coming to rest on my head. His fingers curled in my hair. When I repeated the action, his fingers tightened the grip, tugging at the strands in a way that was both pleasant and slightly painful. I looked forward to having my hair pulled.

After waiting for Arthur to moan again as I licked him, I pressed my lips to the head again and allowed them to part. Slowly, I ducked my head, letting my lips and tongue drag down Arthur's length. He pulled on my hair, breathing heavily, a low noise at the back of his throat escaping him. I pulled completely off him and Arthur inhaled sharply, clearly about to berate me. But I kissed and licked down the slick shaft, even going as far as to nibble lightly at one point. That made Arthur give a shout and he tugged on my hair, sharply enough to make my scalp sting.

Ignoring it, I drew myself back so I could take him in my mouth again. He moaned and I looked up, letting my lips and tongue drag up and down him at a steady pace. Arthur was doubled over, one hand bracing himself on the wall above me. His eyes were squeezed closed, face flushed, sweat dripping from his brow; a drop hit me on my cheek and I felt it slide down. Another moan escaped him as I bobbed a little further and took a little more of him in.

I pushed myself further forward until I couldn't really reach any more. His dick was almost at the back of my throat. For a few moments, I merely moved my head back and forth, relishing in every moan and bitten off curse. I let my tongue swirl around him, lavishing special attention at the tip. Eventually, Arthur managed to find his voice.

"God," he breathed. "You're really good with your mouth, PC Jones."

In answer, I hummed around him and he yelped in surprise. Grinning as much as I could with his cock in my mouth, I drew my mouth back, pushed forward and then hollowed my cheeks and sucked. Above me, Arthur gasped, shifting slightly as he curved inwards even more. The hand on the wall slipped down a little while the hand he had in my hair tightened once again. I tried to smirk and hoped Arthur could feel it.

He disentangled his hand then and gave me a soft slap to the top of my head. "Don't get cocky," he scolded. My smirk widened and he hit me again. "And don't laugh!"

To stop myself from doing so, I sucked on him again. He groaned, his other hand slipping, the one on my head curling into my hair again. Pleased, I continued on like that, bobbing my head and sucking. The taste was intoxicating and I could feel my body lazily begin to react. I hoped Arthur would be willing to return the favour – maybe he could help me to lie down again and he could turn around to do so.

Unfortunately, he suddenly stiffened as I gave him a particularly hard suck. "Fuck," he breathed. "Fuck, I'm not going to last-" He broke off as I sucked harder, my eyes stuck on his flushed face, his blissful expression, his beauty. Everything about him had me yearning to wrap my arms around him. With that in mind, I sucked the hardest I could and, with a yell, he bucked his hips, his cock hit the back of my throat, I swallowed and he came down my throat. He wobbled as he did, drawing back enough for his cum to hit my tongue, letting me taste him. I groaned low in my throat, swallowing the load in my mouth and happily accepting more. Then Arthur swayed more and he let himself fall backwards, the last few spurts hitting my tongue, lower lip and chin as he ended up in my lap.

Arthur sat there, panting, as I licked up the mess around my mouth as best I could. Making sure he was watching, I swallowed. I saw him stop breathing for a moment before he took a deep breath and lowered his gaze. His face was still red but I could tell he was blushing. It was a good look on him, a cute one.

I wanted him.

But I couldn't have him, I realised. We could have sex all we liked but Arthur wasn't exactly human. I was a police officer, dealing with his people specifically. If we were to start dating... Would we be able to survive the perils of the world? Or would we both break and be unable to function?

Actually, thinking about it, I figured that Arthur would likely break me and I so did not want to drown if he could do anything like Michelle had at Covent Garden.

Seeming to sense the change in atmosphere, Arthur swung off me. I watched him, wondering where he was going. Thankfully, he only went as far as the door to the bathroom. Boy, was I glad I had an en suite and he didn't have to use the communal one in the main building. As I watched him go, I let myself drink in the sight of him: flushed, naked, lean, a little muscled, languid, a mess between his legs from where some of my cum had leaked out...

He took a few minutes to clean himself up and came back with a washcloth, his own skin pristine. Wordlessly, he rounded the bed and cleaned me up, gently dabbing at my mouth and chin as if I was a child or his boyfriend. That made my heart twinge and flutter at the same time. My resolution wavered and I wondered what it would be like to have a river as a partner. If I stayed with him for long enough, would I become a _Genius loci_ as well, just as Lovino had?

Smiling up at him, I tried to catch his eye, to ask him about it. But Arthur moved away before I could, cleaning up around my cock. Spikes of arousal shot through me at the touches and the tenderness with which Arthur was treating me. Then he carefully, daintily, folded the cloth and set it on the bedside table.

"I have to go," he said and turned to retrieve his clothes.

All I could do was stare at him in disbelief. Was he really going to go after that? Just leave, as if this was some common one night stand? And was he going to leave me handcuffed to the bed, naked and exposed, waiting for Natalya to bring me breakfast and hopefully set me free? I wasn't even sure she'd bother – she'd probably go get Honda and that would be a whole new level of embarrassing.

"Wait!" I cried. "Don't go!"

By that point, Arthur had found his trousers and he pulled them on before he replied. "I have to. There's some things I have to do. This..." He trailed off and chose to grab his hoodie instead of continuing his train of thought.

I waited until he had his head through the hole before speaking again. "But you can't just leave me like this!"

"Sorry," said Arthur shortly, hastily pulling on his socks and only delaying himself further when he had to twist them around.

"No! I mean, you can't leave me like _this_."

That made him stop. "Oh," he said. He faltered for a moment before stuffing his feet into his shoes and turning back to me. For some reason, he didn't look at me as he made his way to the bedside table. It made me lower my own gaze, sadly staring at the TARDIS door. Without a word, he opened the drawer, searched it, and produced the key. I leaned forward so that Arthur could get to the handcuffs and he was quick to unlock it, his hands brushing against my skin and sending tingles to my half-hard cock – it had apparently not got the message that Arthur was leaving me to fend for myself.

Arthur was quick to turn from me once he'd freed me. He rushed to go, walking briskly towards the door. I sat up and, ignoring the throbbing pain in my wrists, tried to catch hold of him. When I missed, I called out to him. "Wait!"

"I have to go," Arthur repeated, not stopping.

"No, Arthur, seriously, wait a minute!" I cried. I refused to say anything more until he paused at the door. "Is this it?"

He shifted his weight a little, reaching slowly for the handle. "What are you talking about?"

"Well," I said, disappointment making my voice falter. Taking a deep breath, I shrugged a shoulder, though he couldn't see me. "I, y'know, enjoyed that. And if I'm not gonna be forced to work for you like I would with Mama Thames, I'd like to do it again?"

This time, the pause went on for longer. Then Arthur took a deep breath, his shoulders rising with it. "I have things to do." He opened the door.

" _Arthur_ ," I said, trying to plead with that word alone.

Without glancing back at me, Arthur stepped outside. Before he went down the stairs, however, he stopped again and spoke to me over his shoulder. "Maybe I'll see you around, Alfred. Bye." And he was gone, leaving me coming rapidly down from my high, my heart aching despite telling myself that it was probably for the best.


End file.
